Page 27 of Kilt Trip

Addie blinked too fast and swallowed hard, sparking the realization he’d blundered into something heavy and painful he knew nothing about.

He’d barely gotten a glimpse, but the woman in the picture looked an awful lot like a dark-haired Addie.

Her mum.

Guilt bloomed in Logan’s stomach. The strawberry flavor on his tongue turned tangy and sharp.

Without thinking, he reached to comfort her, squeezing her forearm, and Addie nearly incinerated his hand with her eyes.

Right. He yanked his hand back. He shouldn’t be surprised and certainly not hurt—they didn’t have that kind of relationship. And he knew deep in his soul that Addie wouldn’t welcome his questions or condolences.

“I’m sorry about the van,” he said, apologizing for the only thing he thought she’d accept. “That was a dick move.”

She tilted her head for a split second as if trying to discern the sincerity of Logan’s words, and the gesture tweaked his heart. What was wrong with him to have let things get to this point? “My dad let me drive it once before I got my license, and we nearly ended up in a loch.”

The puff of air she released was the saddest excuse for a laugh he’d ever heard. Her chest was nearly pressed against the steering wheel, which was quite a feat in the spacious van, and her fingers were curled so tightly her knuckles stood out in solid white. Of course she was missing the beauty all around her.

He wouldn’t offer to drive in her stead again—he wasn’t looking to get decapitated—so he tried to calm her in the only way he knew how. “Have you ever heard the story of the Piper of Clanyard Bay?”

“Is that the one that starts with Once upon a time?”

Logan grunted. “In days gone by, a dark network of tunnels was said to extend from the cove to the cliffs of Clanyard Bay. Locals believed that faeries lived in these caves, and no one dared to disturb them. But one day, accompanied by his faithful dog, a foolhardy piper entered the tunnels, brazenly playing his pipes. Now, the music droned on for hours, slowly fading away until it could no longer be heard. Suddenly, the dog dashed out of the cave, barking its head off, without any of its hair!”

Addie’s lips tipped up in the smallest of smiles. But it was something. She rolled her shoulders, loosening her arms.

“The piper was never seen again. Although the caves are long gone now, on summer nights, locals have heard the distant sound of bagpipes coming from deep under the ground. Perhaps it’s the wind whistling through the old underground caves or a trick of the mind, but maybe it’s the spirit of the piper, playing his haunted melodies forevermore.”

“Moral of the story, don’t go wandering around with strange men? Clearly a lesson I haven’t learned.” She tossed him a look, and he grinned. She irked him to no end, but he couldn’t deny sparring with her gave him a heady rush.

They drove for another hour in a silence that wasn’t companionable but wasn’t excruciating either, and Logan took the opportunity to watch her while she wasn’t shooting daggers at him.

Freckles he hadn’t noticed in the dim light of the pub dusted her nose. Her blond hair was half-dried and wild instead of perfectly tied back. She looked a bit undone, like a warrior without her armor, although Logan knew better than to assume she was unarmed.

She was quite lovely when she wasn’t interrogating his guides and shredding the integrity of his company.

The drone of the tires was oddly soothing and stirred up some fanciful musings like what would’ve happened if she’d simply been a tourist.

Not that he should still be looking for that woman from the first day.

They passed through pockets of leafless forests and empty farmland. “Right through the trees there—” he pointed over the dash “—you may be able to make out Linlithgow Palace. The birthplace of Mary, Queen of Scots.”

“You packed the kilt, didn’t you?”

“Och, ye best watch yerself, lass,” he said with a grin.

Eyes she hadn’t managed to peel from the road flashed to him in surprise, and he realized his misstep—the familiarity they could no longer claim. His chest flooded with heat, and he cleared his throat. “We’re a ways from Macrae lands, but there’s a historic battlefield nearby. You’ll have heard of Robert the Bruce?”

Addie lifted her hand off the steering wheel for a brief second. “What am I supposed to get out of standing where some dead guy stood five hundred years ago?”

Logan saw firsthand how impactful that could be on a regular basis, but he’d go out on a limb and wager she wouldn’t appreciate an answer. “Seven hundred,” he corrected under his breath.

“I’m not here to sightsee.”

“That’s the beauty of this job. It can be work and play.”

Addie’s words from earlier flickered in Logan’s mind. He could convince anyone of the magic of Scotland. How had he not thought of it before?

She wasn’t going away, and she certainly wasn’t backing down. Logan needed to change her mind. The constant whir of anxiety receded for the first time in months.

---